I have waited for so long. It has been so long. Why has nothing changed? Why has no one come? Why am I still here? Unable to die, yet not truly live. My flesh is a façade of life. My skin stained an inky black where sickness once thrived — why am I forced to bare such a scar? Why must I have to cover myself still, after so many years of having to hide from prying eyes? Insisting everything is fine, that I am perfectly fine. Even when I see my own fractured soul dripping that sickening black.
IT had promised me freedom if I did as it asked. IT had promised me I could have more than my earned eternal sleep. More time, more power, freedom from that stupid sickness that hurt so much. I had only agreed because I wasn’t ready to go, because I had promised those two boys they could depend on me. God those boys. Those too young twins who deserved better than what destiny had dragged them into.
Oh, how I wish I had surrendered to that void instead. Drowning in that welcoming dark, forever to sleep a dreamless sleep, devoured so gently. Away from the pain and weakness of my terrible illness, away from all those eyes that stared with such pity and unwanted concern. Away from the taste of copper on my tongue, from those coughs that stole my breath and brought me to my knees.
Away from those boys who stared up at me like I was more than a simple healer. More than a woman living on borrowed time. Well, it seemed all I had now was “borrowed” time. I had died, stolen in my sleep by the very same illness that had taken my Mother from me so many years ago, and now I live by the will of an entity I cannot even begin to comprehend.
Still here, living for someone else, with the power to do so much — and yet still unable to truly help. Still trapped, still weak despite the power IT gave me. Still powerless in the face of Fate, unable to do anything as those boys are twisted by Fate’s corruption and their opposing power sets. The representatives of the Light and Darkness. My little Sun struggling under the weight of his responsibility, hiding behind a fake smile with a soul burning like a star in his chest. My Moon bound to unwanted duties, baring sharp teeth and cold eyes, the corruption of his soul seeping in and stealing all that he is.
Bound to that terrible tree of twisting gold and blackened bark. That sleeping, cruel Goddess in disguise. How could She curse Her creations so? How could anyone bind those twin children to such chaos? Forced to be consumed by their respective powers, forced to fight for a constantly tipping balance they barely understood. Fated to burn like candles until the end of time, until there was no longer a need for them. Or until they destroyed each other.
At least I had chosen my fate. No one had forced my decision, and even now, in my anger and regret, at least my Deity is kind. This primordial Darkness that had stolen me from death, that would one day consume everything this reality had to offer. At least IT left my choices alone. IT was not controlling, most of the time.
I wish I could leave. That I could do anything to save my boys. Would they have minded being called mine? I wonder if I will ever get the chance to ask. I wonder if they would be angry if I came back, suddenly thrust back into their fractured lives, unable to offer any good explanation for not coming sooner. How could I look them in the eye and say I had wanted nothin more than to help them, that Fate stopped me at every turn. Their stories were written in stone, and Fate would never allow an outsider to wreck their story.
That’s all I am now to the Deities that govern my reality. An outsider looking in. A glitch in the code. An mistake written in. Being aligned with one of the oldest powers in existence came with perks, as much as it came with consequences. I had power beyond my widest dreams, I could not be killed, I am untouchable in the face of Time and Fate — and I am helpless in the face of the universe’s story.
So I remain here, in this broken and dead village I once called my home, waiting. Waiting for the moment I can return to my boys sides. I have been waiting for so long. Unable to die, yet not truly live. Bound to wait until the words run dry and the writer of my dear Sun and Moon’s story grows bored, and leaves them be. Only then, IT tells me, will I be able to interfere, and help those broken twins piece themselves back together.
I hope it is not much longer. I long so much to see them again, with my own eyes and not those of my Deity. I want to remind them they are loved, that they can be more then what roles they were assigned. Perhaps together, we can all escape the grasp of Fate.